Today’s my fifteenth wedding anniversary.
Â Fif. Teen. Years.
Â Dayum. And in two years, there will be undeniable evidence that I’ll be old enough to be the mother of a high schooler.Â In four years I’ll be sharing my car.
Â Â :ignore:Â
Â Enough of that.
Â So yesterday the husband had one mission: take the tall kid to the powersports shop and buy him a helmet. That’s it.Â But of course the short kid wanted to go because the tall kid was, and I did mention the short kid’s gloves might not fit him this year.
Team Technicolor is no more. He bought them all new gear, and it all matches. Well, technically the short kid didn’t get a new helmet—he moved into his brother’s.
Yes, the tall kid’s now in an Adult L and the short kid (the seven year old) is in a youth XXL. I’m still surprised he can hold his head upright.
Â Now I’m off to brainstorm titles. And synopsize.Â Â :write:Â
Â (I do NOT understand why sometimes my smilies work and sometimes they don’t, but I’m blaming gmail.)